


Sleeping Beauty

by garden_of_proserpine



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 04:11:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11478345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/garden_of_proserpine/pseuds/garden_of_proserpine
Summary: Hermione finally agrees to go on a date with Draco, but she insists that he take her to Muggle London.





	Sleeping Beauty

**Author's Note:**

> Basically HP complaint up to Book 6, but Draco never lets Death Eaters into Hogwarts. The song at the end is Jon McLaughlin's "So Close." Both characters are pretty OOC. 
> 
> This was written for DramioneLove's 2015 Adopt-A-Prompt Fest. You can also find the story here: http://dramionelove.livejournal.com/130048.html
> 
> Disclaimer: "Harry Potter" is the property of J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. This work of fiction/art was created entirely for fun, not for profit, and no copyright infringement is intended.

 

The Slytherin grimaced as he walked up to Madame Puddifoot's Tea Shop and hoped that no one would see him.

His blond hair, gelled into submission, fell into his eyes, and every few minutes he would shake his head to clear his vision. This particular habit, he noted, was currently being studied by a gaggle of fifth-year Hufflepuff girls, giggling every time he readjusted his lanky frame against the aggressively feminine-looking tea shop.

If only he had brought something to conceal his face, he mused. Then he wouldn't have to field questions tomorrow about why ex-Death Eater Draco Malfoy was currently wearing the most ridiculous pair of Muggle "jeans" (which was decidedly too tight around certain, sensitive areas of the body), a low-cut gray shirt (that made him even more aware of the attention that the hyperactive girls were lavishing on his chest), and some too-tight shoes (that squished the wideness, the Malfoy-ness, out of his poor, aching feet).

He would kill Hermione for this.

"Hey."

She approached and wrapped her arms around his waist, enveloping him in a hug.

"I didn't think you would come."

He raised his eyes to look at her, and a wide smile infected his features. She wore a simple sundress, instead of the typical school robes, and she had added a hint of shimmery gloss on her lips, which made her look vaguely faerie-like. Of course, she looked good in Muggle clothes.

"Same."

She nodded towards the fat Cupid beckoning from the shop masthead. "He looks positively mad, doesn't he?"

"I actually really think he looks like the Weasel."

She glared at him.

"I meant Weasley, your cultured and well-mannered ex-boyfriend." He offered her his arm. "Shall we go?"

Hermione Side-Along Apparated them to a random locale in Muggle London. Draco looked out at the crowd that seemed too-conveniently gathered at the front of a store with an apple symbol and scowled. Hermione merely pulled two pairs of sunglasses out of her floral purse and handed him one, pulling his hand along with her as she did so.

"What are they doing here?"

"Apple's releasing their new phone tomorrow," she whispered back, as if what she was saying made any sense whatsoever. Not wanting to look stupid -- _although how could a fruit release anything, and what in Merlin's name was a phone?_ \-- Draco said nothing. He wondered if the group of people were disguised paparazzi, but they appeared to be ignoring the couple. They continued walking undisturbed for a short while before reaching what he could only assume was a theatre.

"Do Muggles really pay for the experience of sitting in a giant, dark room?" he wondered aloud.

"Yes. Shut up." She kissed the side of his mouth playfully, effectively shutting him up. "Do you have the money I gave you during Potions yesterday?"

"Of course." He rummaged through his pockets....only to find that the money he knew he'd put there the day before wasn't there anymore. These dumb Muggle excuses for trousers were killing him, and now they couldn't even manage to keep some bits of paper money in them? Truly, they were useless! He thought briefly of the crowd in front of the strange store and suddenly realised what had happened.

'Give me a minute," he said, jogging away from her.

"Wait, Draco!"

He arrived slightly out of breath, and was greeted by a significantly larger swarm of people.

"Hey!" he shouted.

A few people turned around, but most did nothing.

"HEY!"

One man, dressed in an even tighter, electric blue version of Draco's pants, turned around.

"What?"

"I had—" _Shoot, did Hermione give him a twenty or a ... what were those called again?_ "I had some money in my pocket earlier. I know someone here stole it. Just give it up, and no one gets hurt!"

The same ridiculously dressed man was, again, the only person to respond. Most of the others, Draco was disappointed to see, had returned to ignoring him. "Lost how much money? How do you even know you lost it here?"

The outrageously fake-tanned and busty woman beside him chimed in, "Yeah, how do you even know? Do you think you're some kind of wizard or something?" She laughed. "Honey, just go home."

He dug his hands into his pockets, longing for the small reassurance his wand would give him. Of course he was a wizard... only he couldn't say it. It took all the willpower his dear ancestors Abraxas and Lucius Malfoy had instilled in him as a child to not hex the woman into oblivion. That, and the obvious thought of what might happen to him if he broke the Ministry of Magic's most fearsomely upheld law: the Statute of Secrecy.

He stepped forward so that he would tower over both her and her ugly companion. "Watch it."

"Who are you telling to watch it?" she snarled, slapping him.

It wasn't a particularly violent slap, but the principle of the matter was what bothered him. Since third year, Hermione had been the only witch allowed to slap him; forget about random Muggle girls. He lazily stretched out an arm to shove her to the ground when he heard her voice.

"STOP!"

He spun around meekly. "Hermione! .... Didn't expect to see you here."

"Well, I thought that twenty minutes was enough to wait for a guy to just find his cash," she answered.

"About that..."

"It's okay if you lost it, but you can't go around getting into fights with Mug— I mean, other people. You should've just told me."

He blushed. "I guess I just didn't want anything to go wrong. It's the first time you've agreed to be seen in public with me, after all. Couldn't waste this opportunity."

She leaned up and murmured in his ear, "It wouldn't be wasted as long as it was with you."

Draco tried to ignore the very real shivers going down his back as she said this. It was going to be hard to feign indifference much longer. "Well, honey, I'm glad to know that my perfect physique is good for seducing girls," he teased. "I was worried I'd have to make a career out of modeling in order to get this fabulous body out there."

She laughed at this: a happy, light laugh that made his insides feel warm like fudge on ice cream. "Want a peppermint?"

"Sure."

_**\--** _

_**A few hours later~** _

_"I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream.... I know you, the gleam in your eye is so familiar a gleam..."_

Hermione waltzed around their shared Head Boy and Girl dormitory with all the grace of a squirrel amputee. The enchanted voice of the dead Muggle singer floated out of some mysterious contraption Hermione had devised to neutralize the typical effects of Hogwarts magic on Muggle technology.

"You're adorable," he told her, "Adorable and the most clumsy, left-footed person I know."

"Dance with me!" She looked up and laughed. "Sleeping Beauty awaits her overly pale, inbred ferret prince."

He stifled a chuckle at that; he'd long since gotten over the whole "ferret" incident (except when it was Potter or Weasley making the joke). He stifled a chuckle at that; he'd long since gotten over the whole "ferret" incident, except when it was Potter or Weasley making the joke.

 

After the almost-fight in with the Muggle couple, they had missed the movie he'd wanted to see -- _The Matrix_ \-- and had to settle for sneaking into Hermione's Muggle house and watching something on her TV or TW (he couldn't remember which.) Her chosen film, the vintage classic, _Sleeping Beauty_ , had sounded alright at first, but then turned completely illogical. What kind of idiotic witch would curse a girl to die on her sixteenth birthday? Why not just kill her right away? And for that matter, why didn't the faeries just use some kind of sedative on that one day? Flitwick would have died to see such shoddy Charms work, he knew, and he told her as much during the movie.

"Earth to Draco!"

She was looking at him again.

"Just dance for a little while. I promise not to kill your feet too badly."

He nodded his assent, and started swaying to the music. The song suddenly changed to something softer, and she leaned her cheek against his collarbone. He was suddenly very aware of her breathing.

_You're in my arms, and all the world is calm..._

Her bushy hair was beginning to come out its braid, and tickled the exposed part of his chest. He turned red again, and started breathing faster and faster. He could feel his pulse racing.

_The music plays on, for only two..._

She was looking up at him. Her eyes were so wide and so innocent and he just wanted to kiss her right then -- but he didn't, because he was afraid of ruining the moment. His hands were shaking ever so slightly as they held her waist in place. It was a little hard to breathe.

_So close, together..._

"Draco?"

_And when I'm with you..._

"Hermione," he breathed.

_So close, to feeling alive..._

"Draco!"

She pointed her wand in the corner, and he realized that the music had stopped, and her body was no longer lovingly splayed against his.

"What?"

"I think you might be having an allergic reaction."

_What?_

"Malfoys don't have allergies."

"Well, your breathing is abnormal, your face is red, and your heart is going way too fast."

_That's all you, princess,_ he thought.

"Do you really think that this is an allergy?"

She nodded, and draped his arm over hers as they started walking down the stairs. He was too preoccupied with the fact that she was touching him to think of much else, but now that she mentioned it, his pulse was going quite fast. And from the remarks the portraits were making, it seemed like he'd developed some ugly hives to complement the flush of redness.

"Madame Pomfrey?" Hermione called out.

The mediwitch emerged, looking angry when she saw who Hermione had brought. "Oh my! Mister Malfoy!" She grabbed him by the shoulder, pulling him away from Hermione. "What is going on?"

"I think I might've given him a peppermint that he was allergic to."

Madam Pomfrey looked at him expectantly. "Ever had any peppermint problems?"

"I've never—" Hermione was right, he marveled. He was having a little trouble breathing. "—had a peppermint before."

The nurse's eyes softened. "I'll fix you right up." She tutted Hermione away. "Now, dear, you'd better go."

Draco looked mournfully at Hermione's retreating figure.

_**\--** _

_**The next morning~** _

When Draco woke up, he noticed that there was a folded piece of parchment lying next to his sickbed.

**_I had a great time last night. Sorry about the peppermints._ **

**_Love,_ **

**_H.G._ **


End file.
